A Worthy Opponent
by Rambling Drabble
Summary: Kai nears the end of his quest to find powerful chi within the Spirit Realm. An encounter with a rage-consumed leopard does not go like the rest.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: _Kung-Fu Panda_ is owned by DreamWorks Animation LLC. I am not affiliated with DreamWorks in any way. This fictional work falls under the fair use clause of copyright law, and will not be used for financial gain.**

 **A/N: This is just a short drabble, inspired by the best villain of the Kung Fu Panda series, though not told from his POV.**

 **I've always enjoyed fights between villains, and Kung Fu Panda 3 gave a perfect opportunity for this. Excluding the omake at the end, I've attempted to make this entirely possible according to canon.**

 **Hope you enjoy :)**

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The Spirit Realm.

The first time I learned about it, I'd been studying with Oogway in a long-forgotten temple. I was a mere pupil of Kung Fu at the time, not the master I'd always been destined to become, and I had barely been a calf when I encountered that scroll. It described a vivid, colorful world, held together by pure energy and entirely free of the many laws that govern the mortal realm. It was said to be yin to the material yang; a place of peace and harmony; bound only by the mystical laws of willpower and emotion; entirely unfettered by physical concerns.

Let me tell you what the Spirit Realm _really_ is.

This place is a prison. An unchanging, disorganized, albeit colorful wasteland, only populated by the occasional master to reach ascension, or enlightenment, or whatever they're calling it _this_ era. I stopped keeping track long ago, after the _first_ ten synonyms. That was also the same time I stopped listening. The 'wise words' of those pathetic fools have been falling on deaf ears for the last few centuries now. It's a shame the 'masters' had nothing but 'bright wisdom' to share. I might have listened if I'd encountered some wisdom of the _darker_ sort – the kind only known by the old and brutally honest, who could share dreadful tales of deadly mistakes, hard-fought battles, and decisions they would never stop regretting, the kind that would haunt them for the rest of their days. If only _those_ people were capable of coming to this place without the Wuxi Finger Hold to send them here.

As far as I know, I'm the only one to suffer that fate, and thus the only one in this realm with a sensible head. Or perhaps I should say, with a sensible 'aura'. No other sources of chi in the Spirit Realm still _have_ their heads, after all. At least, none _did_ until about a month ago.

The chi of the first arrival was unmistakable. The moment it arrived, I knew my slow-to-age friend had finally left the mortal realm. My former brother, my comrade-in-arms, my ultimate nemesis.

Oogway had finally arrived.

I left my meditation the moment I felt his presence. The key to my invisible shackles, the warden who sent me in the first place, had finally decided to pay me a visit. If only he could see the irony of it all – of the captor switching places with his captive. Perhaps he _will_ see it.

Or _would have_ seen it, if I hadn't been sidetracked.

While it's true that my greatest desire for the past five hundred years has been to escape this prison, I would not betray the vow I had made upon my arrival: "I will defeat every master in this realm. Only then will I defeat Oogway."

I am not my former friend. I will _not_ break my vows.

And perhaps I'll even enjoy this diversion, now that I've resisted the final temptation against keeping my word. This second source of chi… not to mention the effect it's had on this part of the Spirit Realm… perhaps I can allow my curiosity to run away with me, just this once.

Most of the Spirit Realm could be considered as "harmonic" as the scroll described. It is filled with bright yellow/blue/silver 'skies', endless rainbows, countless yin-yang symbols (so many that I once formed the habit of destroying them on sight, just to see what would happen. The result: even more would take their place), and an ever-present, golden light in what felt like the realm's center – the Center of the Universe. That is the place where Oogway's chi had bloomed to life, and remains.

 _This_ part of the Spirit Realm is nothing like that, or anywhere else. It almost reminded me of _my_ place of residence, as the sheer contrast it provides to the realm around it resembles a dark stain on a landscape painting. But that is where the similarities begin and end.

My home is lit by a resplendent green, the incandescence unhindered by any floating structures, save for the single shrine that I'd claimed as my own, the shrine at its very center. I cleared everything else as I trained, building the skills and strength that would allow me to conquer _all_ worlds: mortal, spirit, and any that might lay beyond. My drive, my goals, my passions, and all my actions became more focused, more precise, more guided with each session. With each punch and kick, and eventually with each slash of my jade swords, my vision became clearer, my swords sharper, my strength stronger, and my body bigger. My home came to mirror the developments of my spirit. It too became more focused and precise, leading me to the logical conclusion that the Spirit Realm provides a visual manifestation of the spirits living within. This conclusion has not been disproven after many encounters with Kung Fu masters.

Keeping all that at the forefront of my mind as I leapt from island to island... if _this_ place is meant to reflect the Spirit Realm's newest resident... well, as I said, perhaps this won't be such a dull digression, after all.

A deep, furious red light has cast the entire sky in a blood-crimson hue. The physical structures – and there were many – rarely reflected the scarlet source of luminescence. More often than not were obscured by black clouds of smoke and shadow. These clouds drifted low and high, barely allowing enough visibility to navigate the lair.

I passed many structures, using my chained swords to occasionally clear the smoke. What I saw in their wake was… _intriguing_.

In the Spirit Realm, the only solid objects to be found are made of metal, wood, or stone (including _gem_ stone). Only the masters with the most powerful chi could manifest more than a few small shrines, or perhaps a single temple. And yet, here I found several, temple-sized locations, all carved in vivid detail and currently abandoned.

There was an endless staircase, filled with the promise of grandeur but leading nowhere. There was a deep, stone pit – a prison from the looks of it – littered with broken chains, giant crossbows and arrows, and shattered terra-cotta rhinos; it was a deeper, blacker crimson than the rest of the lair. There was a canyon, with ropes and planks dangling from either side like broken ladders, the wood no longer bridging the wide gap. Finally there was a temple, surrounded by more clouds than the rest of the lair put together.

To its side, a training hall could be seen without a single puff of smoke about it. Like the pit, it had a more pronounced hue. Unlike the pit, the glow around the training hall left no shadows, nor did it leave a single plank un-lit. As with the shrine of my own home, this training hall seemed to be the source of light and chi for the entire lair.

A commotion coming from within the hall informed me that I had finally found the source of this curious chi after weeks of travel.

Guttural growls, rage-filled roars, and shattering shouts filled the air, marking a _particularly_ vigorous fight. But that was impossible. The fact that I could only hear one voice, and feel one source of chi, forced me to conclude that this was but a training session, not the vicious bloodbath it could have been, had there been an enemy for the chi to fight.

The unmistakable acceleration of my heart and breath, fueled by anticipation and excitement for the battle to come, did nothing to change my usual approach.

The atmosphere alone had already done that.

Rather than attack the unsuspecting chi, using the element of surprise to my advantage (which I haven't _had_ to do in centuries, though continued to _do_ out of habit), I decided that the setting warranted a more… enlightened strategy. Conversational, even.

Perhaps another bit of dark wisdom has finally found its way into the Spirit Realm.

I knocked on the large doors to the hall thrice, bringing an abrupt end to the session and leaving the hall in silence. Not two second later, a hoarse, rasping voice came from within.

"Enter."

I grinned, tapped one of the green figurines attached to my waist for a quick burst of strength, and kicked the doors in, sending them flying in what I'd estimated to be the location of the voice inside. Perhaps it _is_ impossible to break my surprise-attack habit. Ah well.

One of the doors flew wide, but the other appeared to meet its mark head-on. I was only slightly surprised when the wood shattered into a million pieces, leaving a powerful frame obscured by the dust of the explosion. The frame shimmered once, clearing the cloud violently.

In its wake stood a snow leopard who was as far from amused as one could be.

From the lack of a shirt, I guessed it was a male. His fur was gray, spotted, and untrimmed. It looked like it may have been maintained, once, but the overgrown and uneven patches made it clear that the owner no cared for grooming. He wore only a set of worn, purple pants, so shredded they may as well have been a loin cloth. His claws were extended and viciously jagged, and his face was twisted into a snarl, revealing a set of equally unkempt teeth. His eyes glowed like two forest fires, determined to consume everything in their path.

"Who are _you_?" he asked, voice still hoarse. He seemed ready to attack at the slightest provocation, like a threatened cobra.

Again I felt my pulse quicken, entirely from the thrill of anticipation. "I am Kai," I thundered. "The Jade Slayer, the Conqueror of the Spirit Realm, and the Ultimate Collector of Chi." Those are the titles I've earned since my banishment. "When I was mortal, I was known as General, Supreme Warlord, Master of Pain, Beast of Vengeance, and Maker of Widows. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

"Yes," the leopard responded, making my pulse quicken yet again. "I read about you. Long ago."

"I suppose that _would_ be the only way for a _mortal_ to learn about me."

The leopard's eyes went only slightly distant in memory. "I thought the pursuit of knowledge would be essential to become the _dragon warrior_." He spat those final words, voice vehemently venomous. "How naïve I'd been."

"Hmm," I pondered, unfamiliar with the title but curious nonetheless. "I assume the Kung Fu 'masters'-" (I stroked my fingers over the jade figurines at my side) "-put a greater value on wisdom than knowledge?"

The leopard growled angrily, though not _aggressively_. I took that as a sign of agreement. "I see you hold these masters in the same regard as I."

"More than you know."

He turned his gaze to one of the still-standing training dummies. "It's thanks to their _infinite wisdom_ that I had to rot in jail for _twenty years_." The wooden soldier shattered under the force of a single strike.

He then turned his gaze on a massive support beam. "Now, I get to _rot here_ for an **ETERNITY!** "

The stone pillar crumbled to rubble.

The leopard was breathing heavily, his entire body rising and falling with each heave – an effect of his emotional state, not his physical one. Physical exhaustion is not possible in this place.

"Twenty years?" I yawned, drawing a low growl and narrowed eyes from my fellow inmate. "Try five hundred."

The deep-red eyes widened again. "Ah yes, I'd almost forgotten. Oogway invented the Wuxi Finger Hold… in his final battle with _you_."

"It seems you know your history," I remarked, impressed by his attention to detail.

"Even more so, now that I've become nothing more than a _stain_ on it," he hissed, anger tempting to boil over into rage. "Tell me. Why have you come here?"

"For many reasons," I shrugged casually, slowly leaning into a battle stance. "A vow that goes back centuries, an equally old quest for power… but ever since I felt your chi, I was drawn by simple curiosity." I pointed the tip of my right sword at the leopard. "Why are _you_ here, in the Spirit Realm?"

He eased into an aggressive stance of his own. "I was _sent_ here against my will. Like you."

And again I felt myself grinning. "It seems I've found a kindred spirit. If only you could have arrived _before_ Oogway finally met 'enlightenment'."

"Oogway is _here_?" the leopard asked, coming to that conclusion much quicker than I thought he would.

"Indeed." I nodded. "I was on my way to engage him until _you_ arrived." I shifted my stance ever so slightly, ready for a fight so fierce, its effects would reach the mortal realm. "Before we begin, I would know the name of my opponent."

"Tai Lung," he growled.

Thus began the greatest fight of my afterlife.

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 **There will be two chapters total, with an omake at the end of the second. The next will be released next Thursday, Friday, or Saturday (hopefully around the same time as today, if work doesn't get in the way).**

 **Final Note: A writer by the name of IronicSnap made a story very similar to this one well over a year ago, with the exact same cover art. I did not know this until after I'd made and prepared mine, art included. I only found it a few hours before posting this, when I put the character "Kai" in the filters to see if anyone else thought to write something like this. I'd recommend checking his out; it's named "Sorry Not Sorry". The name and opening made me smile, and so did the ending.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This author's note is mostly just to prevent the "Prev" tab over there from messing with the format. Interesting Note: The maximum amount of PM's per day is 300. Not gonna do _that_ again. Probably. Also, _39_ reviews? Holy crap did my theory prove true. I think this is the start of a long career of munchkinery. Muahahaha!**

 **In all seriousness, I'd like to thank everybody for the honest feedback! I read the reviews as they were posted, and I'll do the same for this chapter. I couldn't have asked for more. Lastly, I'd like to mention that I tend to respond to the critical reviews that make me think or teach me something new. Just something I noticed over the past week.**

 **On to the finale!**

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Tai Lung made the first move, legs leaping into a blur of motion and kicking up the shattered remains of the door and pillar. He aimed the sharp, wooden stakes and hard stones at every vital organs I had – throat, eyes, heart, and stomach, to name a few – with the occasional off-target shard flying at an exposed bit of muscle instead.

My grin widened. I admired the brutality of the attack as my own arms flew into motion, spinning the chains wrapped around them at mortally-impossible speeds, blocking the projectiles with the flat ends of my jade blades. I once performed this technique in a part of the Spirit Realm filled with mirrors, against "Master" Porcupine. From the outside, it looks like a solid green shield.

Just as my opponent depleted his ammunition, he retreated to the other, mostly un-shattered door that I'd embedded in the opposite wall. He wrenched the wood free with a single pull and threw it at me in the same motion.

The door filled my vision for just a second. My grin threatening to twist from my face as I was struck with an idea; turnabout _is_ fair play, after all. I let one of my swords drop to the floor, protecting my shin from a final stone in the process, which freed my right hand for a powerful punch. I shattered the door in a cloud of dust and shrapnel that exploded away from me like a firework. Only in the moment immediately _after_ this did I realize I'd broken a cardinal rule of combat, however shortly: _never_ lose sight of your opponent.

Tai Lung scattered the dust of this door more violently than the first's in a vigorous assault. His aggression dwarfed those of all my previous opponents combined – his eyes glowed scarlet with even more unfettered rage than before as he leapt into a flurry of punches, kicks, swipes, slashes, chi-blocking jabs (to which I've long since been immune), and even the occasional bite.

None found purchase, of course, but the sheer amount of attacks forced me to go on the defensive. Tai Lung allowed no opportunities for a counterattack at all. I blocked, ducked, and parried, only once managing to return a punch, which exposed my flank for a fraction of a second and _almost_ led to its gutting. I came to the conclusion _very_ quickly that I shouldn't attack unless absolutely certain it wouldn't leave me vulnerable.

Tai Lung did not tire in the slightest – an advantage we share as spirits – using his newfound stamina to its fullest potential. He did not relent or retreat, and his rage only seemed to build as he fought, like a fire with an endless amount of fuel, growing larger as it is fed.

I had no chance to test my opponent's defenses and every chance to practice my own. It's not every day I'm forced to maintain my rusty (but still well-trained) defensive deflects and protective parries, so I welcomed the opportunity with open arms.

The fist fight continued for a time, my right sword still on the floor and my left hilt in my grip, dedicated to the singular purpose of a make-shift shield.

Once I felt that my defensive skills were sufficiently practiced, I took a massive, chi-aided leap backwards, leaving Tai Lung's range. Or at least, leaving the range of his fists and claws.

He responded to my retreat by grabbing the scattered weapons of the training hall and sending them my way before I had even landed, using unnatural strength to grip and release every weapon type imaginable – spears, tantos, wakizashis, katanas, staves, clubs, axes, darts, and throwing stars, just to name a few.

I switched my stance from defensive to passive, my second-most unpracticed battle style, intending to dodge the projectiles this time around. Though my larger frame made it more difficult to pull off, my centuries of practice with chi-boosted reflexes and speed allowed me to evade with relative ease. I was executing flawless sidesteps, backsteps, ducks, tucks, and rolls in under a minute – but no jumps; I cannot maneuver well mid-air without both swords at the ready, unlike the feline felon who jumped from weapon rack to weapon rack, emptying them of their deadly contents in seconds.

It was only when _my own sword_ came flying at my head that I decided I'd had enough practice. Just as the green weapon passed through the spirit-air that my head had occupied mere moments ago, I grabbed the chain, gave it a yank, and let the sword's momentum carry the links around my arm in a spiral until the jade blade's grip was in my fingers once again.

Tai Lung, not one to slow his assault for any reason, had found a bow and quiver in the infinitely brief pause, and was now firing even _faster_ projectiles than before. His paws were a flurry, the string of the bow moving back and forth like the strings of a lute.

I always hated the lute.

Using perhaps more chi than necessary, I augmented my own durability, causing the wood-tipped training arrows to harmlessly bounce off my temporarily iron-like skin.

Tai Lung growled in frustration, dropping the bow in favor of a _long_ line of crossbows near the wall, which he picked up and fired in quick succession.

I only allowed the first few bolts to graze me before returning to my passive stance, not keen on becoming a pincushion. The sapphire-tipped bolts, most of which were aimed at my eyes and neck – the softest parts of my body – either punctured clean, crack-free, and perfectly circular holes in the wall behind me or flew through the open doorway, escaping into the ever-reddening lair outside.

I imagine Tai Lung would have continued this tactic till the end of time if he hadn't run out of loaded crossbows to fire. Once he did, he only took a moment to examine his surroundings, and a moment more to resume his assault. He sprinted into a maze of wooden training dummies and broke many, throwing the self-made projectiles my way. This time, he stopped the futile effort much sooner, likely realizing that the crossbows were his only chance of damaging me at a range, and that he was now being foolish.

"Done so soon?" I taunted, exploiting the only potential weakness I could find in the warrior before me. "And here I thought I was fighting a grown leopard, not a kitten."

 _That_ sure did the trick. Tai Lung roared, his chi flaring wildly as he knocked over a brazier and his fur caught fire. I had no time to wonder whether he _knew_ he was using chi to keep from burning alive, or if the effort was entirely unconscious, as it appeared to be. The same could be said about the speed he used closed the gap between us.

I resumed my passive ducks and sidesteps, only ever making contact with the blazing fists and feet to push them aside immediately before they struck whichever vital point they'd been targeting. From experience, I know _exactly_ how enraging it can be to fight a passive opponent – one who only ever initiates _a single_ attack of his own: the killing blow. The rest of the fight is spent observing, running, and evading, to the ever-increasing frustration of the attacker.

The style had the intended effects. With each swing, Tai Lung became more consumed, the glow of his eyes burning brighter than the fire eating away at his fur. His movements lost accuracy and precision as they grew more feral. His swings now resembled those of a wild beast, rather than a trained Kung-Fu master.

"What's the matter?" I asked, sidestepping a full body-lunge. "Your daddy never taught you to tame your temper?"

He roared savagely, the fire on his fur blazing into an inferno, like a set of armor born in the heart of a volcano. His entire head became coated in a solid-red sheen that was brightest where his eyes had been. It was at this point that he lost any remaining semblance of a martial artist. He fell down on all four legs and completely, perfectly relinquished his body and mind to the inner demon that lies within us all. His past training could only be seen in the sheer power and speed of every attack.

It seems I am no longer fighting an intelligent foe. What attacks me now, what lunges at my throat with speeds greater than even _I_ can reach with the help of chi, what claws at my chest and heart and lungs like a hungry animal… what I see before me is nothing more than a monster. And, like all monsters, Tai Lung had lost the advantage that his mind had given him. Where before his attacks left no chance for riposte, now each blow left an opportunity for a counter-attack, each strike left a window just waiting to be broken. Those windows were only left un-shattered due to the heavy recoil of blocking his unavoidable attacks.

Like a bird that knows instinctively how to fly, the Leopard needed no instruction and no training to use his own chi. Ever since Tai Lung went berserk, his – _its_ aura flared with every movement, casting the training hall in such a blinding light that we appeared to be fighting on the surface of a blood-red sun.

And for the first time in my afterlife, I was afraid. The feeling wasn't strong by any stretch of the imagination, of course… but it was there, and it distracted me just long enough for one of the Leopard's attacks – a slash aimed at my left shoulder – to hit its target, claws sinking _deep_ into my muscles.

I grunted at the pain, but redoubled my focus, determined to keep my _distracting_ emotions at bay. A _true_ master of Kung Fu does not _ignore_ his emotions in a fight; he uses them to his advantage, like a sword – a _double-edged_ sword, which only the most skilled warriors can bend to their will without risking fatal, self-inflicted wounds.

 _Fear_ is not one of these self-empowering emotions; fear can only be used by the master strategist to foresee danger or by the craven to escape it. No Kung Fu warrior, even the intelligent few who use emotions as tools, can use fear in the middle of a fight.

Anger _is_ one of these emotions, so long as it is not allowed to boil over into mindless rage. Anger-fueled strength, speed, and ferocity are some of the greatest shortcuts to power. However, the moment anger becomes rage is the moment it begins to consume you, as it has with Tai Lung.

Only having the two emotions to work with at the moment, I allowed a hot flood of fury to flow under my fur and through my veins, stopping just short of mindlessness. My vision blurred in hatred at the memory of Oogway's betrayal, the pain in my shoulder disappearing into an all-encompassing fire of passion, and I finally began to push back with a few swings of my own.

My arms became a blur of green and gray, my feet more coordinated than any dancer's, and the immediate ground around me glowed a brilliant green, surpassing the red aura in solid brightness, though not in scope or scale. I _was_ still within Tai Lung's lair, after all. Or perhaps that's simply the nature of a wild, all-consuming source of chi – it spreads well, but is difficult to contain or concentrate. If I could have viewed this battle as a spectator, I knew my chi would seem more refined, more cutting, and more precise than the feral power around me.

My blows were more accurate, more damaging, and more cunning than my opponent's. Each exchange left a wound on my body, but two on his. Every time he neared, I pushed my advantage, until I finally put the Leopard on the defensive.

Its guard wasn't nearly as flawless as its assault. Nor was it very effective. Like a predator at the top of its food chain, the Leopard didn't know how to handle a foe stronger than itself.

No longer was I wounded after each individual bout – now, the only spirit-body to suffer the pain of battle was that of Tai Lung.

The Leopard soon realized this, and just as quickly took the only available action to ensure its survival. It bolted, attempting to flee through the entrance of the training hall like a helpless little bunny flees from a wolf.

This drew a snort from my snout, and I flung my swords faster than he could escape them. My lingering anger made the technique slightly less accurate than usual, but it served its purpose, regardless of the collateral damage.

The chains surrounded the beast that had consumed Tai Lung, trapping him in a metal spiral and sending him crashing to the ground. The glow of his eyes had dimmed and the fire of his fur had extinguished the moment he'd tried to escape. The feral movements and sounds were now dulled to a less-mindless, almost intelligent set of frustrated snarls and struggling.

I let a long, light chuckle escape my lips. "Back again?" I asked, the taunting no longer necessary but feeling entirely appropriate.

" _Release me!_ " Tai Lung shouted, his chi flaring in an attempted escape.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," I told him. "You see, I need your chi to escape this place." I shook my waist slightly, letting the jade figurines clink together. "You will make the final addition to my collection before Oogway becomes the crowning jewel."

"I will be _nothing_ of the sort!" he snarled.

"You don't have a choice," I said, weaving my hands in the ancient art of chi-stealing.

Tai Lung's eyes widened as he felt his life energy take solid form, encompassing his body in a slowly-growing, red jewel cocoon. I paid the unusual color no mind; whether it's blue, red, or the usual gold, they always turn to jade in the end, no matter how strong the will of the opponent.

* * *

 **Omake (extra, non-canon) continuation:**

Tai Lung, finally understanding his fate, twisted his features into a hateful glare, the pupils of his eyes mere slits, as they'd been when he began his descent into madness. "You… will… _burn_ …" he cursed.

The final words echoed in the hall behind me as his lips turned solid crimson, and he shrunk to the size of a skipping stone.

I closed my eyes as I gripped the new chi in between my palms, breathing through my nostrils as I allowed the new power to course through me. And with the new power, far greater than any I'd yet to take, came something else… something _painful_.

I felt an insatiable, devouring lust for vengeance – far greater than I ever reserved for Oogway – begin to eat away at my senses.

My vision dulled, my arms began to shake, I felt the urge to drop to all fours, to _charge_ at _everything_ in sight, _especially_ anything red, and-!

Deep breath.

Close your eyes.

 _Deep breath_ , Kai.

No rage.

The fight is over.

After a full ten seconds to regain my composure, I opened my eyes. I used my advanced mental capacities to simultaneously mollify my anger (an expansive vocabulary aided me in this task) and attempt to locate the source from which this new anger emanated.

"Power on par with a supernova... vigor as volatile as a volcano... _anger_ as aggravated as an aggressive adder... Ah!"

Only _then_ did I think to actually _look_ at the figurine still clutched between my fingers. Only then did I realize that Tai Lung was _truly_ unlike any opponent I'd ever faced.

His figurine was made of solid ruby, still radiating an intense, illuminating light. Far more concentrated than before, the chi made itself even brighter by violent vibrations. It was as if Tai Lung still had a will of his own… no, he _did_ still hold a will of his own. His soul and chi remained completely independent from mine and he appeared to be using his diminutive form to inspire a _new_ kind of fear – not the kind of fear a wolf puts in a rabbit, but the kind a virus instills in its host.

I snorted, pushing aside the useless fear and concentrating on my own chi, drawing on centuries of knowledge and training to _dominate_ the life I simply _knew_ I could control, the one I already held in between my fingertips.

The vibrations grew to the point where they could be _heard_ , clattering like a rattlesnake's tail against my fingers. The red glow now almost matched the green glow around me.

Never before have I been met with such resistance. Every time my will pushed against his, Tai Lung's pushed back tenfold. An inferno of hatred threatened to consume me after each attempt, leaving my chi more and more unstable as the battle of spirits raged.

Five attempts later and I was on the breaking point. One more clash, I knew, would send me over the edge, and I would forever lose the control necessary to achieve my goals. I shouted wordlessly, thundering in frustration (my vocal cords weren't able to produce growls), and I looked once again at the figuring in my palms with narrowed eyes that shone a green light against the crimson. The scarlet glow burned with an ever-brightening incandescence, the vibrations quaking ever fiercer, and the chi statuette began _burning_ my heat-resistant fingers like a hot coal.

 _Impossible_ , I thought. _How could_ one _soul hold so much power and hatred?_

As if to answer my question, a _roar_ came from the figurine, though it sounded more like a kitten's attempt to be fierce, likely due to the diminutive size. Tai Lung's chi threatened to burst free of its imposed chains. I could _feel_ his anger slowly dissolving the cage.

And if he succeeded…

 _That_ , I knew, would be a battle hard fought – the outcome not nearly as predictable as the first. Or as favorable, even in the event of another victory. And that… could not be allowed.

I sighed, coming to the only safe conclusion I could find.

It was the most difficult decision I'd had to make in centuries.

I looked at the ruby figurine in my open palm, taking a single moment to admire the power and potential it held. If I had managed to tame that power, _nothing_ could have stood in my way. I closed my eyes, bringing my second hand to cover the chi completely. Thoroughly depressed, I decided to give my best adversary to date a privilege I've not granted to any other: a parting message.

"Tai Lung. If you can hear this, know that you have been a Master both greater and wiser than any to come before you. Farewell, my most worthy opponent."

I clenched my eyelids even tighter, concentrating all my chi, stolen and otherwise, into my palms, and drew a deep breath. With a final huff, I _crushed_ the figurine, feeling the chi burst in a swirl of emotional power.

It delivered one, final feeling before it disappeared forever: pure, unadulterated terror.

And then, the power was gone.

All that remained of my greatest foe to date was a red, misty powder. The powder slowly faded to black, taking the red glow of the lair with it, and leaving me in a powerless, pitch-black hall. Not even _my_ chi provided anything more than an _extremely_ dim glow, equivalent to the light that stars would give on a moonless and cloudy night.

Until this day, I had not known it would take so much energy to destroy a spirit, nor had I known how my prison would react – this was the first time I'd seen the Spirit Realm so empty of light.

It took me a full month to escape, guided only by the chi of Oogway.


End file.
